


Taking Aim

by kerithwyn



Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Early Work, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-30
Updated: 2000-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arsenal catches Nightwing when he's down. Early work written in 2000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taking Aim

**Author's Note:**

> Stand-alone. AU. Bi!Roy. Did I mention stand-alone? Though a thematic mirror to "On Target," maybe. PWP. Smut biscuit with no redeeming social value. Enough warnings. 
> 
> Blame/thanks for this one is for Carmen (inspiration), Alestar (beta and smut support *choke!*), and Dannell (encouragement). A lovely trio. :)
> 
> Originally written 5/30/00.

"Donna, do me a favor."

She glances over at me. "Hm?"

"Watch Lian for awhile?"

She nods automatically, then follows my gaze to where Nightwing is stretching out after our training session. "I know that look, Roy. What are you doing?"

"Robbie's been a little tense lately."

"‘Lately'? But...*oh.*" She looks at me for a minute, then grins. That's all. I love not having to explain. In that same wordlessly understanding way she hustles the rest of the team out of the gym, leaving me alone with Dick Grayson.

Who, I've already decided, is going to get just what he needs. Even if he doesn't know what that is yet.

"Robbie, your back still bothering you?"

He sighs and grimaces. "Yeah. I can't believe I twisted like that. Haven't done that since I was first starting out with Bruce."

Oh, no you don't. *Last* thing you need is to start thinking about the damn Bat. "Look, why don't you go jump in the hot tub for a bit, and I'll rub it out for you." Nice and casual. Nothing weird going on here, nope. Not like I don't do this all the time; I give the best massages of anyone in the Titans, then and now. Ask anybody.

Robbie just nods and heads over to the whirlpool. Obediently. It's a good sign. I hit the showers and plan my attack. Yeah. "Plan." I do that sometimes. When something's too important not to screw up.

Ready or not, Dick, here I come.

...well, soon anyway, I hope.

I throw on a shirt and shorts, grab up a towel and some oil that's good for more than just massage, and walk back into the gym.

Not for the first time he's surprised me; he's already sprawled out on his stomach on the massage table. I look him over: perfect body and an ass that could tempt an angel to fall. Heh. Maybe I should ask Zauriel for a second opinion on that. Later. Right now, it's all mine.

I put my hands to his shoulders and he tenses for a second, then relaxes completely. Such trust. That floors me, always has, especially since I never earned it. Did everything possible to make sure I fucked up my life as thoroughly as possible, and he absolutely trusts me anyway. That's only one of the reasons I'm doing this.

Another being, of course, that I *want* him.

I run my hands over his skin, finding the knotted muscles. He makes a sound of pleasure low in his throat and it's about all I can do not to go for it right away, but he's gotta unwind first. So I really get to work, loosening him up for everything I want to do to him later. It takes a while but it's totally worth it to see and feel him going boneless under my hands. Finally he's so comfortable he barely murmurs when I touch his hip and make him lift up just enough to pull off his shorts. His ass fills my hands and there's still nothing *too* weird going on, far as he's concerned; muscles and tendons there need to be relaxed just like all the rest. I reach for the oil and "accidentally" drip a little too much down the crack of his butt and try not to grin as he almost-imperceptibly squirms as it slides down. More where that came from, Robbie, just wait.

He's all primed, so I move down his thighs and calves, heading for his most vulnerable spot: his feet. I knead his heel between my hands. My thumbs dig into his instep and I hear him moan faintly. Pressure along the bottom into certain points and he's definitely alert now, moving from "relaxed" to "aroused." Which means he should start to protest right about--

"Uh, Roy, that's good. Feels great. Thanks."

"Hang on, I'm not done here yet." I pick up his other foot and dig in and--

His ears turn red. "No, I'm good, really."

"Oh? We'll see about that." Showtime. I lean over and give a quick lick to the base of his spine, right above the tailbone where all those nerve endings come to rest. I'm expecting him to react and he does, twisting over to stare at me in shock and not even remembering to hide his arousal. Perfect. I don't give him another chance. My hands slide under his ass, lifting him as I bring my head down to taste him.

The sound he makes when my tongue runs down the length of his cock is indescribable.

But damn him, he still finds the breath to protest. Sort of. "Are you sure we should be--doing this?!"

"You mean this?" I pull back just enough to breathe over the tip and see him tremble. "Or *this*?" My hands move forward to caress his balls--lightly, I'm not sure how sensitive he is, but his gasp lets me know it's all good for him. God, his body is made for sex.

"Or how about *this...?" I let one finger trail back and he doesn't speak, but the way he pushes slightly against my hand says volumes. I started this knowing what I wanted from him and I'm fairly sure he'll want it too, once I get him there.

"But maybe you're right. Tell me you want me to stop, Robbie..."

I'm answered with a barely stifled moan and that's it, any chance he had of getting out of here unravaged is gone. Am I taking advantage? Hell, yes. But he needs it and I want it and that's more'n enough reason, as far as I'm concerned. The concept of "unfair" can kiss my ass. Or maybe he'll do that later.

Right now I've got him at my mercy and I'm gonna keep him that way. It's been awhile but I still remember how this works. I take him in, all the way, and he only *just* keeps from bucking up and choking me. Considerate. I work him hard and fast, not giving him the chance to say no. His hand tugs at my hair, it's a warning sign but I'm not going anywhere. His whole body rises up and tenses and then he's coming with this long elegant shudder that goes all the way through him and into me as I swallow him down.

Gasping, he falls back to the table. I just lean over him and grin. He's really gorgeous like this, all flushed and disheveled and, yeah, naked.

After a minute he looks up at me, suddenly suspicious. "You planned this!"

Read me like a book, Robbie. "Yup."

"How *long* have you been planning this?"

"Oh, I figure since the night you stayed up with me, holding my head so I wouldn't puke all over myself." All throughout the hell of heroin withdrawal, he refused to leave me. I hadn't *deserved* that kind of loyalty.

His eyes go wide. "But that was--"

"Ten years ago, yeah, so? You're a hard man to pin down." I don't feel like talking. I slide my hand up his leg and run a finger over his cock. "Or usually, anyway. Slowing down in your old age, Grayson?"

He stirs again under my hand. "I just...didn't know you were interested...."

"Surprise. Now shut up." I bend over and kiss him for the first time. I feel him start and then he's kissing me back, thank God, the "seduction" thing can be fun but I've been wanting to get to the good part with him for way too long.

He lets out a noise that's not quite a gasp, not quite a laugh. "This table isn't very wide."

"True. But the mat is." He's still so surprised by what's going on he doesn't protest when I pick him up and carry him over to the sparring mat. Not as comfortable as a bed, maybe, but if I let go of him long enough for us to walk to the dorm wing he'll have talked himself out of it before we get there. That's the thing about Robbie; you gotta make sure he doesn't *think.* Analytical leader, trained by the Batman, blah blah. That's why Kory was so good for him, way back; she helped him remember what it was like to act on impulse.

There's just too much I want to do, but I think...yeah. I get up and grab the oil, then pull off my clothes and sink back down next to him. "Got to get the rest of you, ya know." I drip it over his chest and follow the drops with my hands. He lies still, watching me touch him, and I'm not sure what's going through his head at all.

Then I feel his hand slip between my thighs and all my plans're utterly derailed. Wally'd be jealous of how fast I move to get my body full-length against his. Jealous of the *speed,* I mean. Ha. Wally would have an aneurysm if he knew what was going on. Guy'll never know what he's missing.

Christ, he feels good. Slick with sudden sweat and the oil I grind against him, his hard-on rubbing mine, and that friction is too much. "Fuuuuuck. Robbie, you cheat--"

He laughs softly in my ear. "Turnabout is fair play." Whatever. I'll make him beg *later.* I thrust against him and he pushes back, we fall right into rhythm. Give and take. His hands on my back. My mouth on his neck. I'm gonna leave a mark on him in more ways than one.

He chuckles again and I realize it's ‘cause I'm cursing nonstop against his throat. Crap. If he's laughing he's not *into* it but right this second I don't care ‘cause he just feels too damn good. My arms're trembling with the effort of holding me over him and then I can't stop it, ohhhhh fuck, *fuck,* yeah!

I collapse panting on top of him. For a minute I just lay there, his arms still wrapped around me and it feels great. I really love this guy. I'm not talking about *pitter-patter O how I love thee O master of my heart* love, but I care about him an awful lot. It's the fact that he cares back I still have to get my head around sometimes. Roy Harper, poster-boy for bad choices. At least I'm certain *this* was a good idea.

I reach for the towel but stop, mesmerized, watching him run a finger through the puddle on his stomach and bring it to his mouth, sucking. It's about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. How the hell did I keep my hands off him all this time? "Do that *again.*"

He does, cleaning himself, and I can't stand it. That mouth. I want to feel it on me and have to remind myself this is supposed to be about *him.*

Think I'll start with a kiss and work my way down.

I move in to start again but he stops me. "What's this about, Roy?"

I give him my patented Roy Harper Smirk[tm]. "What, you're not gonna believe I was suddenly overcome with desire for your irresistible carcass?"

He blushes. Gotcha, Dick. "Um, no?"

"Oh. Well, whatever. You think about it. If you can." Yeah, keep that focus on him. Let's find out what makes him squirm. I've got the feeling it's sorta *everything.*

Instead of going for his mouth I pick up his hand and lick his palm. His eyes flutter closed briefly. Yeah. What I thought. "God, you're hot, Grayson." I say it before I even realize I'm going to. Oh, well. It's true. I bite lightly at the inside of his wrist and his cock twitches. So *easy.* I wonder if I can make him come without hitting any of the traditional spots?

Worth finding out. I like a challenge. I nibble at the inside his elbow, trace a line up to his shoulder. Run my tongue over his collarbone. Drop a kiss on his jugular and just rest my lips there for a second, feeling his life. Then--

Then I sit up to look at him, just look. He's lying there waiting for me to do whatever I want, utterly trusting. There's a little smile on his face and his whole posture says, "take me." Gettin' there, Robbie. But first.

"Close your eyes." He blinks once and then does. Whoever thought he'd take orders from *me* about anything? But hell, I'm not gonna waste the opportunity.

I want to taste him everywhere. He's all laid out in front of me, unbelievably tempting. Yeah, like I'm gonna fight that. I swing a leg over and straddle him, the feel of him under me just *right.* I lean down to kiss his temple, run my tongue along his cheekbone, catch his lower lip lightly in my teeth. He opens his mouth to kiss me. God. His tongue caresses mine, he puts his whole *self* into it and for a long couple of moments I forget where we are, what I'm doing, and just go with it. When I finally break away we're both breathing hard. And his eyes are still closed.

I'm suddenly impatient to get to the rest of it but I've got a challenge in front of me. So I move down, one slow inch at a time. When I reach his nipples I can't help but bite gently and chuckle as his body arcs up. Faster now. His belly button tastes sweet but I'm only there for a second before going on.

My mouth fastens to his hip and I suck, wanting to mark him. He breathes into it, letting me. Tomorrow when he's back in the 'Haven he'll be swinging on a jumpline and feel it when he moves. I like that idea. He's mine, even if just for an afternoon.

I lift his leg and lick his inner thigh and he inhales sharply, but I'm not going where he thinks. I taste him everywhere *except* where he wants my tongue the most. Not that I don't want to, but I've been there already.

Down, farther down to where this all started. I kiss his sole, mouth his big toe, and watch him writhe. My teeth rake lightly over his instep and he gasps and whole body convulses and he comes, just like that. Gorgeously, of course. All flushed and breathless.

Looks too good to waste. I slide up and start licking at his stomach, washing him with my tongue. For a second he just lies there, and then I hit a spot and he--giggles.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I hit it again and he laughs and I can't stop myself. "Ticklish, huh?" I ask, and then I'm on him, trying to find all the points where he's most sensitive to attack. He sits up suddenly, trying to grab my hands but I don't let him; and then he twists and somehow I'm pinned under him. I can deal with that.

"I think you've made your--point." He smiles and I'm glad to see it. "Can I play now?" Without waiting for an answer he kisses my throat, nuzzling right into my neck. Cripes. He's not kidding. I want to protest but I can't get the words out. "Dick... *ohhhh...*"

"Mm-hmm." He's so...smug... oh, *fuck.* He's entitled to be. He knows *exactly* where to touch me. For a crazed second I wonder if Donna told him--but no, she wouldn't, he's just that good. Go figure.

He works his way down, his mouth on my nipples, he's relentless, and all I can do is lie there and moan. My stomach. Down lower. He doesn't fool around, just goes right for the goal, the path of least resistance. I'm sure as hell not resisting. I *can't.*

That beautiful mouth doing beautiful things, he's an artist, I'm incoherent.

Except this isn't, I really wanted to, I want--

It takes all the willpower I didn't even know I had to make him stop. I pull him up and kiss him hard. And then I say:

"Turn over."

He doesn't say a word, his eyes, I know he knows where this is going and he rolls over, just like that. The real problem now is keeping myself under control until he's begging for it. I want to hear that.

I stroke down the long line of his back, hands and then mouth, his spine arches and his ass lifts up toward me--oh, Jesus, how'm I supposed to resist *that?* Forget it. My tongue trails down, I hit those nerve endings again and he shivers, and then I go even lower. He *groans* as my tongue enters him. It's good. I want to hear more. I pull out slowly and he actually *whimpers,* I swear this's gonna kill me.

Faintly he says, "Do it..." and my hand reaches under to pump his cock, which is rock-hard and dripping. He shudders and thrusts into my hand and then pushes backward again.

"Do what?" I can't help teasing. It's wrong and evil, I know.

"Roy..."

"Say it, Robbie. Tell me what you want." As if he needs the incentive I lean in and glide my tongue against him again.

"F-fuck me... *please.*"

Oh, oh yeah. "Since you asked *so* nicely..." I let one hand skate over his rear while the other reaches for the oil. Neither of us needs a lot of prep but I want to make sure it's as good as it can be.

I slip a slick finger into him and he hisses and shakes and he's ready, I'm way ready, no waiting anymore. I get a hold on his hips and slide forward, my cock barely touches him and he moans. That *sound.* I honestly start to think we won't survive this but fuck, what a cliché, what a way to go.

Inside him. Oh, God. He echoes me aloud. And then he says "More," and my brain short-circuits, I drive all the way in and he cries out like this is what he's wanted all along. He feels--I can't even think, it's-- he's--

Instinct is about all I've got left and I move on him, we move together like a dream. It's gotta be that; because I'm *fucking* Dick Grayson, I've only admired and envied him all my life and he's letting me--

Sweat drips down onto his back, I'm barely aware enough to reach around and stroke his cock. He makes a sound something like a sob and shoves himself back. I can't, I can't hold on, I thrust in hard and he makes that noise again and I do it again and again and he shouts my *name* and tightens around me and I scream my climax into his skin.

Together we fall to the ground, I can't move, think I'll just lie here for awhile and breathe him in. Sweat and sex. Mm.

"I think this mat is done for," he says almost conversationally. I don't know where he finds the energy to talk.

Somehow I do too. Competitive, who me? "Trash it. Get another. Shhh."

He chuckles. "Is this what it takes to shut you up?"

I groan and pull out of him--ah, God--and flop over onto my back. My arms feel like wet noodles. "...Right. Try that next time. In public."

He starts to laugh. "Oh, man, Wally's *face*...."

"Yeah." I just smile at the ceiling. Then I feel his hand touch mine, he takes it and squeezes and I don't have to say a thing. What is, is.

But next time I'm gonna let him do whatever he wants with that mouth.

 

  
{end}

  
  
He MADE me write that last line. The greedy bastard...!

Um. Anyone wanna take him off my hands and write a sequel? *Please?!* He's driving me *mad.*

This bit was from Falstaff:   
PoohEG: Roy loves Dick.   
I'm not talking about  _pitter-patter O how I love thee O master of my heart_  love, but he loves Dick very much, and he's doing this because he cares for him.

You said it. Thanks, Staffie. :)


	2. Taking Aim: I Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quasi-sequel to "Taking Aim." 
> 
> Originally posted 6/5/00.

In the category of "things that get put in my head during a 2 a.m. chat...." Thank you, Carmen. My Bitch!Muse.

Picture this. Roy and Dick, in the gym. (See "Taking Aim" for all the smutariffic details.) Meanwhile...the internal sensors in Titans Tower are merrily humming away. And a Titan wanders past the monitor board.

Pure silliness. But let's play, "what if...?"

 

  
 **Troia (Donna Troy):**

She'd known *exactly* what Roy was planning, and approved. She might have done the same herself except that Dick had always considered her like a sister. Donna treasured that relationship. Dick had always been an anchor for her, and his friendship remained one of the most important things in her life. No matter how much she'd changed.

Not that his feelings stopped her from looking, though. You'd have to be dead not to watch Dick Grayson's ass in spandex.

Now the others had been safely diverted and Lian was enwrapped in "The Little Mermaid" and knowing what was going on below was like an itch in the back of her brain. And then she realized, the monitors--

Well, she had to go and make sure no one *else* saw what was happening, right? So Donna told Lian she'd be right back, sweetie, I'm just going to make us some popcorn for the movie, and on the way she stopped in the monitor room. There, oh there as beautiful as she'd imagined, but if she didn't turn it off quickly she wouldn't be able to at all. And she did.

But *before* she did, without more than a smidgen of sly guilt, Donna set one very specific set of sensors to record and send the video to the computer in her own room. For later.

Because it would be a crime to lose those images forever. And also just because.

 

  
 **Starfire (Koriand'r of Tamaran):**

The situation was unbelievably frustrating, that's what it was.

Yes. She knew that what she and Dick had shared was over. Done. Finished with no chance of reprieve. He'd changed too much, she'd changed too much, and everything that had happened was just too much weight of *history* to move past. So she bore it with as much grace as she could, and tried not to be bitter. Earth still had a lot to offer.

But Kory could never look at Dick, and not regret.

Restless she wandered the Tower, and when she reached the monitor room--

Oh.

My.

Greedily she stared at the image on the screen. So. Dick would accept comfort from Roy, but not from *her*? Were they not still friends, despite everything?

She missed not being able to touch her friends. Things here were so much more constrained. It wasn't that they meant to hurt her, of course not, but none of them understood just how intertwined friendship and sex were for her people. She'd adapted to life on Terra, she'd had to, but that particular aspect of human culture still galled her.

And she had been bereft of simple *touch* for too long. If Roy could do this--

Thought translated into action and the fiery trail of her power burned behind her only briefly as she took flight.

<< Scene shift: The gym. Kory comes in. Without a word she begins touching Dick, staring at Roy in challenge. Perhaps there is a moment of annoyance on his face but Roy is nothing if not flexible and Kory is, well, always has been a pin-up wet dream. The purpose here *is* to make Dick feel better, after all. It's not difficult to be gracious. And between them, they make Dick not care about anything well into the night. >>

 

  
 **The Flash (Wally West):**

zzzzippppppppp around the Tower and whoa, back up, what the heck was *that?!*

Dick.

With *Roy.*

And they were--

Wally's hand blurred and hit the monitor's off switch before he'd even finished processing what he'd seen. There were a lot of things Wally loved about his best friend Dick Grayson, but his bare ass wasn't one of them. Just *not* his thing. And he even more especially didn't want to see Roy Harper's.

But...but....

The afterimage speed-raced around his brain, thoughts trailing after. *ohman Ican'tbelieveI*saw*that Ireallydidn'tneedtoand whatthehellisgoingonwiththemanyway they'resupposedtobestraight andDickneversaidawordabout--*

Aloud, Wally complained to the universe at large: "Why doesn't anyone ever *tell* me these things?"

Dick, he thought, had some explaining to do. Later.

Much, much later.

 

  
 **Tempest (Garth of Shayeris):**

...well, that just figured.

After how much he'd grown in the pain of Tula's death and the transformation from Aqualad to Tempest, Garth thought, you'd think he would have learned something about taking the initiative. Seizing the moment. But all this time he'd still said not a *word* to anyone about his long-standing attraction to Dick Grayson, a near-infatuation that went all the way back to the team's founding moments.

And here Roy had grabbed an opportunity Garth hadn't even considered possible.

But watching would be...crude. If he ever *were* to see Dick like that, he wanted it to be at his own hands, resulting from his own touch.

He turned the monitor off with envy in his purple eyes.

Although on consideration....

He knew both Dick and Roy well enough to guess that this was...casual. At best. Which was something he *hadn't* realized Dick might be interested in. If he were--well, "casual" didn't always remain so, did it? Not with *those* two, there was too much tension between Dick and Roy to allow anything more. Too much jealousy on Roy's part and not enough patience on Dick's to put up with Harper's constant biting wit.

Whereas he and Dick might be-- Garth shook his head, sighed, and resolved not to build his hopes up too high.

But he also made a promise to himself not to lose another chance.

 

  
 **Cyborg (Victor Stone):**

His reactions were odd these days, and he was still discovering how much of the old Vic lay under the shiny gold of his shifting Omegadrome body. Linked into the Tower's computers, he knew everything that happened within its walls almost immediately.

So while the scene in the gym wasn't really his kind of thing, he could appreciate the need for comfort. Especially since most of his adult life Vic had struggled with the "man in a monster's body" problem, not that any of his friends had really believed he was a monster. Now he'd exchanged a steel encasing frame for a completely alien body and somehow he felt more *human* than he had in years. Perhaps someday he might even....

That hope was almost an alien thing itself, after so long. But welcome. Vic chuckled softly, watched for just a moment more and then switched off the monitor, deleting the tape as well.

 

  
 **Jesse Quick (Jesse Chambers):**

She should have gone back to QuickStart to take care of business, a CEO's work was never done, but there was some information she wanted to dig out of the Titans' database and *blink* oh, my *God!*

Jesse Quick might be the fastest woman alive, but she felt her brain stutter and freeze on the monitor image. She didn't *know*-- She'd never *imagined*--

Not that they'd discussed their sex lives with her, she was still new to the team, but she hadn't gotten those signals at *all!* And she'd been attracted to Nightwing too (who wasn't?!), even knowing they were probably too much alike for compatibility, workaholics both, and that's probably why Roy was, uh, he was totally opposite....

Jesse realized she was still staring.

She blushed. If anyone had been there, she would have stammered upon speaking. She reached out a trembling hand and turned off the monitor. Remembered only barely to erase the log. Wandered out of the Tower in a daze. Forgot about work. Went home and stared at the walls for awhile, trying not to *see.*

Failed miserably, swore, gave up and went to bed; and despite herself, dreamed.

 

  
 **Argent (Toni Monetti):**

The Tower had practically cleared out, how weird, and Toni was bored. Well, there was always online shopping....

But ick, she didn't feel like sitting in her bedroom. In the monitor room she could have the TV on, and the radio too, and a whole bunch of screens. Time to warm up daddy's credit card, she thought, then forgot all about *that.*

Mouth open, Toni watched with growing excitement. Oh, yeah! This was better than a tape, both Nightwing and Arsenal were as hot as she'd thought, and together they were even *better.* Without taking her eyes from the monitor she dragged over a chair and settled in front of the screen, not wanting to miss a moment. She'd be playing this one over in her head for *months.*

Her hand drifted downward, keeping time.

 

  
 **Damage (Grant Emerson):**

Grant really, really didn't want to disappoint his team.

They'd saved him from jail or worse after his little, uh, accident in Atlanta, it wasn't *his* fault his powers sometimes flared out of control, and that was the whole point of his being in the Titans anyway. To learn to use them better. And just having somewhere to *be,* that was great too.

So he figured, might as well use his free time to catch up on Titans history. You never know when information about old villains or old missions might come in handy, and he wanted to be *useful.*

The last thing he expected to see on the monitor was *that.* They...they.... Oh, jeez! Paralyzed, he stared for another minute before he flipped the monitor off, flushing bright red with embarrassment. But...but it didn't make *sense.* He'd heard about Roy and Donna and Dick and Kory, and never even seen anything to suggest...*that*....

Abruptly he realized he was breathing hard. He felt his body react--

No, no, he *wasn't,* he wasn't interested in guys, he always thought about Kory or Donna or Toni when he, he, uh, and he *wasn't interested in guys like that.* He knew that for a fact. He wasn't in denial or repressed or anything. So why was he--why did he--

Confused, Grant stumbled out of the monitor room, desperately determined not to think about it. Not. Ever. Again.

 

  
 **Changeling (Garfield Logan):**

He might not be a Titan right now but the Tower was his home, it'd always be, and the others always seemed glad of his visits. The Titans were his family. Gar held that close to his heart.

Even just hanging out here was cool, sitting at the board watching the world go by and Nightwing and Arsenal in the gym, kissing, naked.

Gar sat up in shock and couldn't tear his gaze away. Could that really be *Dick?!* He wasn't surprised about Roy, Roy Harper was a horndog who'd probably jump anything that moved, but Dick?! Who always seemed surrounded by a horde of women lusting after his perfect body?!

But then...Gar had wondered about Joey...and he and Nightwing had been close--

Cheeks burning under his green skin Gar reached to turn the monitor off--and dropped his hand. Caught, he watched in twitching, wide-eyed and guilty fascination. And undeniable arousal.

Somewhere in the back of his head, wishing.

 

  
 **Nightwing (Dick Grayson) and Arsenal (Roy Harper):**

Lazy, drained, not wanting to move....

"Roy."

"Hm?"

"The *monitors.* Did you--"

Helplessly, Harper began to laugh. "Think somebody got an eyeful?"

"That's not--Roy, it's not funny! What if--"

Roy snickered. "Let 'em watch, I do my best work with an audience. Besides, it'd be a crime not to share that ass."

Dick started to get up, then paused. "'Share'?"

With an exaggerated smirk Roy stretched and eyed Dick from head to toe. "Sure, why not? I'm not possessive, I don't mind sharing my toys...."

Dick's eyebrow went way, way up. "'Toy'?!" He moved faster than Roy could react, straddling Roy and pinning his arms to the mat. His voice went low and dangerous, one shade away from the Bat. "Is that what I am?"

Anyone else might have backed off. But it'd always been in Roy's nature to tempt fate. "Ohhh, yeah. I always thought you had potential, Robbie. Titans' sex toy."

Dick's mouth fell open in utter shock. And then the only possible response, the old team refrain: "Shut UP, Roy."

Roy grinned agreeably. "Okay. I'll just have to find something else to do with my mouth."

An unwilling smile spread across Dick's face. "Perhaps you'd better."

"Hey, your wish is my command."

"As long as it's something you want to do anyway."

"Well, yeah. Kinda thought that went without saying."

"Oh, shut up and kiss me, Harper."

 

  
{end}

  
  
APOLOGIES to Lianne, whose line "I would have to be dead to miss *your* ass in spandex," from her great Roy/Kyle fic "Sometimes Good Guys Finish First" stuck in my head and worked its way in here. *facepalm* I couldn’t *help* it. Forgive me?

Beta and miscellaneous lines (and nearly all the dialogue in the last segment) from Carmen, of course. :)

 

 


End file.
